


Basic Booty Call Etiquette

by Pigzxo



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Booty Calls, Drunkenness, Episode Related, Episode: s03e17 Basic Lupine Urology, F/M, Nipple Play, Sexting, Smut, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, but i just don't care, i'm aware the ending of this would hurt a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 09:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11848944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pigzxo/pseuds/Pigzxo
Summary: Their yam isn't murdered but Annie still sends that text.You're about to be screwed in the bio lab.





	Basic Booty Call Etiquette

Jeff’s drunk and he has a sneaking suspicion Annie might be too, that there’s a reason she’s not quite being herself, that their conversation about the bio project has taken a weird turn. And then he gets the text that sends it all over the edge: _you’re about to be screwed in the bio lab._ And he doesn’t know if that’s Annie’s unintentionally sexual way of telling him he’ll fail the class if he doesn’t smarten up or if it’s her slightly awkward, naive way of coming onto him, so he texts back: _where are you_ and the answer comes quickly: _the bio lab. duh._

Now, Jeff has no intention of actually screwing Annie in the bio lab or letting her screw him there, but he does feel obligated to check up on her. After all, the hour is a little late for her to be hanging around the school alone and at the very least, if she is out of it enough to be texting booty calls, he should be a gentleman and make sure she gets home okay. Not that he can offer her a ride in his current state but he can call a cab.

            He _should_ call Troy or Abed, tell them that their roommate is inexplicably at Greendale after midnight and probably more than a little drunk. Or maybe _a little drunk_ is all it takes to change Annie from sweet, innocent, doe-eyed Annie into awkwardly-booty-calling Annie. For some reason, the thought makes Jeff smile as he slips out of bed and pulls on a pair of jeans. He shoves his phone into his back pocket and shrugs on a button-up shirt. He spares a glance in the mirror. His hair is acceptably mussed, the dark circles under his eyes far from sexy but at least not terribly distracting, and his eyes are just short of bloodshot. He can manage a late night rescue mission himself, even in this state.

            And if he spares a second thought for Troy and Abed, for her roommates not knowing where she is, he justifies it by telling himself they’re probably busy playing some dumb game or watching some horrible movie and they wouldn’t answer their phones anyways.

            And maybe, just maybe, Jeff admits to himself that he’s only human. He’s only human and even if he has no intention of screwing Annie, he still very much wants to see what she’ll do when he reaches the bio lab, what she’ll say, how she’ll try to seduce him this time. He doesn’t give her very much credit, doesn’t believe she’ll succeed. For some reason, his conscious always gets the better of him when it comes to Annie. His conscious seems to work almost exclusively when it comes to Annie.

            When the cab is a block away from his apartment, Jeff remembers he never texted Annie back, never told her he was coming. He fiddles with his phone, the phone he’s had in his hands for the last five minutes, fingers working over the keyboard even though he’s not texting anyone, not even writing out coherent sentences. When he goes to text Annie, to tell her, he hesitates. He hesitates like he always does when it comes to Annie and the things he shouldn’t feel for her. And he decides against texting her back. Maybe that way he’ll get really lucky and won’t have to battle his conscious at all. Maybe that way, she’ll have gotten embarrassed and left before he even reaches the school.

            He reaches the hall outside the bio room before he discards that particular fantasy. The light is on in the lab – the overhead light, not the heat lamps over their yams – and he sighs. Taking a second just outside the closed door, he closes his eyes and steels himself for whatever awaits him inside. Knowing Annie, it’s just her in a short skirt and a sweater, maybe sitting on top of a table, her bare feet dangling off the floor. She’ll smile. She’ll cajole. She’ll blush. But, true to form, she won’t do anything irresistible and Jeff isn’t so drunk that Annie wouldn’t have to be irresistible enough that a born again Christian would fuck her senseless for him to do the same.

            Jeff takes one last, steadying breath before he pushes into the bio lab. As he sets foot over the threshold, not catching sight of Annie right away, he’s grateful he already jacked off today. Forget that he jacked off to the thought of Annie on her knees in front of him, mouth open and willing. That isn’t important. The important thing is that he’s done it and she’ll have less control over him because of it.

            “Annie?” he says, looking into the dark corners of the room. “Annie, are you in here?”

            Sparks of disappointment flare through his chest but he reminds himself that this is what he wanted – to not have to have a battle of wills between his conscious and his libido. With a sigh, he turns back to the door just as he hears a small voice say, “Jeff?”

            Jeff looks over his shoulder and _damn_. Somehow he manages not to let it show. Somehow he manages to keep his expression neutral, bored even, manages to look like he’s far more interested in looking back at his phone than he is staring at her. But all of that is a goddamn lie that he doesn’t know how he holds together, he just does. It’s like being a sleazy lawyer all over again.

            Because Annie stands there at the door to the supply closet, half lit and half in shadow, looking like a complete disaster. Her hair is fluffed up and out of its customary barrette. It reminds him of the second paintball war when her hair was all mussed and tangled, when he’d wanted more than anything to bury his hands into it and tangle it more. Annie’s sweater is missing, leaving only the too low-cut floral dress underneath. Too low-cut and far too short, like it’s something from her high school days that she hasn’t found the heart to get rid of yet.

            And isn’t that just the thought to ruin the mood, to ruin the thoughts of how she’s managed to lose her shoes. As she pads over the tile floor towards him, a pretty smile on her face, all Jeff can think of is how that dress, bought probably only a few years earlier, barely contains her perky breasts and creamy thighs, barely skids under the curve of her ass.

            “What are you doing here?” she asks, confused.

            Jeff spares a moment to realize he’s not looking her in the eye, is in fact looking much too low to keep up the illusion that he’s here for appropriate reasons, and slides his eyes back to her face. She blushes crimson and well fuck, he’s gone and done it now, given her ideas that her innocent little mind skipped right over when she sent that text. He smiles, polite, cordial, and says, “You sent me a weird text. I got worried.”

            “What text?” Annie wrinkles her nose and looks around for her phone. It’s abandoned on the front desk so she twirls around to pick it up and, yes, Jeff confirms that the skirt is barely long enough to conceal her underwear. In fact, when the breeze catches it, her panties are in full view – all lace and pastel pink – and Jeff barely resists the urge to grab her.

            As she looks at her phone, her frown deepens and she pushes her hair back. “None of these texts are that weird, Jeff.” She glances over her shoulder at him. “I mean, unless you think our bio project is weird. Or that Professor Kane having cameras here is weird.”

            “Cameras?”

            “Yeah. Remember? You begged me to take over for you tonight even though it was your turn to check in on the yam? Well, fine, except Professor Kane has cameras in the supply closet to see who goes in and out to determine who is doing their fair share of work on the project. Hence, you being screwed in the bio lab.” Annie shakes her head like she thinks she made all of this perfectly clear. “Really, Jeff, I don’t see how any of this would have made you worry about me.”

            Jeff takes a moment trying to figure out how to respond. Maybe he can blame it on the sluggishness of his drunk brain or just his general stupidity, but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth. He just can’t begin to comprehend how Annie thinks her texts made her point, how she didn’t catch the undercurrent of their flirtation.

            But as she continues to frown at her phone, realization dawns on her and the blush returns to her cheeks. “Oh,” she says, and she drops the phone like it’s suddenly hot. She meets his eyes again. “By screwed, I did not mean _screwed._ I mean, Jeff, we’re... I’m totally over that. One hundred percent. I wouldn’t send you lewd text messages in the middle of the night and certainly not from the _bio lab_.” She’s rambling and her voice is shaking and there’s a high-pitched lilt to her words that doesn’t quite convince Jeff she’s telling the truth. She laughs. “I mean. I mean, come on. _You’re about to be screwed in the bio lab?_ I think I deserve a little more credit than _that_.”

            Jeff leans against the doorframe, half to steady himself. He rubs his temples. “And what, exactly, would you say if you were trying to seduce me, Annie?” He lets the words draw out, sound bored and annoyed, like they are. He is bored. He is annoyed. He can’t believe he let himself think Annie had any intention other than saving his grade.

            But she doesn’t take it that way. She stammers more and her cheeks go red and she pulls at the bottom of her skirt like somehow she thinks that’ll make it longer. He can’t remove his eyes from the image of her fingers between her legs, even if they’re doing nothing sexy, even if there’s fabric in the way. “I would... I... Jeff! That is so not the point.” She crosses her arms irritably, unintentionally pushing her breasts closer together, and Jeff starts to think that maybe she’s not as clueless as she lets on. Maybe it is all an act. “Can you just leave? I’m doing all the work anyways.”

            Jeff rolls his eyes. “At least let me take you home. It’s late.”

            “Like you’re in any condition to drive.” And now she’s really annoyed. Now the blush has faded and her voice has steadied and she probably just thinks he’s mean or a tease or doesn’t want her anyways but comes around just to torture her. As she wanders through the bio lab putting things away, she adds, “I’d have to take _you_ home and we both know you don’t want to _give me the wrong idea_ by letting me into your apartment late at night.”

            “Annie—”

            “You’d make me drop you at the door, if you’d even let me take you home at all. Even drunk on, what? Half a bottle of scotch? You’d want to take _me_ home. Innocent little Annie, can’t handle the nice neighbourhood Troy and Abed live in, even though I lived over _Dildopolis!_ ” She sighs heavily and slams a drawer. She turns her wide eyes on Jeff and glares. “I think it’s best if we just forget you were ever here, you get back in your cab, and I make my way home _alone_.”

            “Come on, Annie.” Jeff takes a step forward and gives her his most sympathetic look. He tries to look loving without crossing the line, tries to look like he cares for her without making it seem like he wants her. “I came all the way down here to make sure you got home safe. Just let me take you home.”

            “You came all the way down here to get screwed in the bio lab,” she snaps.

            “That’s not—”

            “True? Goddammit, Jeff, do you really think I’m that dumb? That I’d believe after misinterpreting that text, you came all the way down here to make sure I got home safe? Oh, poor Annie, can’t make it the ten blocks home on her own, better come down and make sure her offer to screw me doesn’t mean she’ll screw the first homeless man she sees!” She scoffs and gives him a look so full of disgust that it turns him on a little. “I’m not a child, Jeff. I know what men want. And I know what you want. And if you’re not even going to have the decency to admit it, then why would I let you pretend to be chivalrous and walk me home?”

            Jeff sighs and fixes her with a bored look. “And why the hell would I let you pretend that you didn’t know exactly what you were doing?”

            She seems thrown for a second, half a second, and then she’s fixing him with her most annoyed glare. She looks a little like his first girlfriend right then – the girlfriend that made him give up on girlfriends by being too demanding and high maintenance. “What are you even talking about? I clearly explained—”

            “That Professor Kane has cameras in the storage room. Yeah, sure.” He takes a step closer, crowding her, but she refuses to budge. Looking down into her eyes, he tilts her chin up just a little more, just to make the angle of her neck uncomfortable, just to see her lips purse in that way they do when she’s not gonna back down. “But that word choice, Annie? I think we both know that a girl with such a high SAT score knows better than that.”

            “Give me a break. It’s late.”

            “It is late, Annie.” And then he’s stepping forward, making her back up. He still doesn’t intend to screw her, not really. He just wants to make her admit that this is what she wants from him, this is what she meant to happen, that she’s not as pure and innocent as she’d like people to think. He wants her to beg for it and then he wants to take her home like a perfect gentleman.

            She bumps into one of the lab benches and he doesn’t relent. He presses his body up against hers, places his hands against the bench to pin her in, and looks down into those shocked eyes. “It is very late, Annie,” he repeats, his voice all smooth and silk, “and yet here you are, in the bio lab, hours after it should have been locked.”

            “I have a key,” she squeaks.

            He exhales a laugh, lets his fingers trail up the outside of her thigh. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her swallow, but he’s far more focused on watching the fabric of her skirt bunch upwards. “A key.” He hums. “That’s convenient.”

            “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Jeff, but—”

            He lets his eyes flick to hers and she shuts up immediately. He likes that. He dips his face so their noses skid together, so he can feel her breath hitch and her breasts press against his chest. He chuckles. “You know exactly what I’m doing, Annie.” His fingers graze the lace of her panties and she bites down on a gasp. “You know exactly what _you’re_ doing, Annie. I know you do.”

            “I... I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            Her voice is still surprisingly steady and it’s starting to annoy him. With a huff, he pulls back just enough to get his hand in between them. Let’s see her keep up the act with his fingers between her legs, grazing over the rough fabric of her underwear, pressing it into all the sensitive spots. Her breath leaves her in a hot puff against his neck and he bites down on the way his own body reacts to her, on the twitching in his pants. His teeth graze his bottom lip and he doesn’t care that he’s already crossed a line, he just knows he’s older and more experienced and can get her to admit to her minx-like ways before he does, in fact, screw her in the bio lab. Not that he would. He’s only there to take her home.

            “Jeff,” she breathes out. Her eyes glaze over and she arches up, half in pleasure and half to try to meet her lips.

            He ducks out of the way, brings a hand into her hair and guides her face into his shoulder. “No kissing,” he says. “No kissing until you admit that you know _exactly_ what that text would do to me.”

            “What... what _exactly_... did it do to you?”

            And, damn her, she still has far too much control over her vocal chords. He pulls down the waistband of her panties with his thumb and drags it over her clit, causing a gasp to rip through her. He likes the wild way she moans and arches into him, even though there’s really not enough room for her to move between him and the lab bench. Her breath is hot, unbearably so, on his neck, and then her teeth are grazing over his collarbone and he feels weak in the knees, so weak he almost loses his grip on her.

            “Fuck, Annie,” he grinds out, not really meaning to, not wanting to let her know that this is getting to him too. But she can probably feel it. He’s pressed up against her hip and he’s harder than he remembers being in a long time and it’s nothing like it was with Britta, even though it’s the same deal – a secret rendezvous on school grounds that no one can _ever_ find out about. He grinds his teeth together and pulls her hair, eliciting an even hotter gasp, the kind of sound that shivers down his spine and makes Annie dig her teeth into the meat of her shoulder.

            And Jeff is man enough, human enough, to admit he’s really fucked up now.

            Because it’s no longer about making Annie admit what she’s done, trying to get the words out of her so he can leave the whole thing behind him. No. Now he _definitely_ intends to screw her in the bio lab.

            He shoves his whole hand into her panties and penetrates her with a finger. He actually groans when her whole body arches against him, when she jolts enough that he feels her feet leave the ground. And he knows he doesn’t have the strength – no, the self-control – to hold up both of them. So he pulls his finger out, ignores her keening moan, and grabs her firmly by the hips to hoist her up onto the lab bench.

            There’s a moment – a terrible, clarifying moment – where their eyes meet. The distance between them, the cool air, the look of her, makes Jeff take stock of the moment. Annie is in front of him. Annie with her messy hair and reddened mouth and he wonders what the hell she’s been doing to his neck to make it burn like this, to make her lips look like that. He’s going to need concealer to cover the marks.

            But more than that, in that moment when she’s looking at him, when he’s looking at her, he knows he can’t blame this on the alcohol. He can’t blame this on the misinterpreted text. He can’t blame this on wanting to get her home safe. After all, he’d already admitted it to himself hours earlier while he stroked himself to climax thinking about her on her knees. Conscious or not, he had no self-control when it came to Annie, and Annie was a girl who deserved self-control.

            “Annie,” he says, slow. He brushes the static hair back from her face, feels her heated skin under his palm. The room is hot to make sure the yams grow and certainly the physical exertion hasn’t made them any less likely to get sweaty. He licks his lips, tries to come up with the words, but all he can say is, “Annie.”

            “Jeff,” she replies, her voice quiet and soft and even a little cajoling. She hooks her foot behind his leg and pulls him forward. He hits the edge of the lab bench, air punching out of him, and she wraps her arms around his neck. In an almost mocking voice, she says, “You know _exactly_ what you’re doing, Jeff. You know _exactly_ what that text did to you. What you intended when you came down here.”

            Jeff swallows hard, tries not to let her Bambi eyes get the best of him. “I wanted to take you home.”

            “Yeah. And we both know there are two ways to interpret those words.”

            Fuck. She has him. She’s always had him.

            He crushes their lips together, sparing only a moment to think about breaking her before she’s opening his lips, deepening the kiss, and getting her tongue in his mouth. He feels himself fall into her, now holding onto the lab bench not to trap her, but to keep his knees from buckling. Kissing Annie is like waves crashing on the shore, like waking from a nightmare with his heart still beating wildly. His hands creep up her ribs and squeeze her breasts and he relishes the way she loses her breath into the kiss.

            She shifts forward on the table and their hips come flush together. Jeff growls at the feel of it, growls right into the kiss, and she giggles in a way that is so purely _Annie_. As she starts to unbutton his shirt, her hands smooth against his skin, her nails long and sharp, he dips a hand back under her skirt and pulls her panties down.

            Her thumb grazes over one of his nipples and he almost suffocates into the kiss. In fact, he has to turn his head out of it, control his breathing, as she starts to squeeze and pinch and generally make it very hard for him to keep his feet under him. He scrapes his nails down the back of her thighs, lets her underwear fall to her ankles, and then gets back to working his fingers into her.

            She gasps as he enters her again, lays a wide, wet, warm kiss onto his pulse point. He doesn’t know how she’s doing it, doesn’t know how making her weak is making him weak. He grinds against the inside of her thigh, presses kisses into her shoulder, tries to ignore the way her hands might as well be right on his dick.

            Before he can completely lose himself, he dips his head to press kisses along her neckline, causing a blush to rise over her breasts. He knows from the way she sounds – the squeaky moans – that she likes this and she’s embarrassed by how much she likes it. He removes the hand on her thigh and uses it to cup her breast instead as his mouth pushes down the fabric encasing the other, moving until he gets his lips around her nipple and she nearly screams. He chuckles into her skin.

            Maybe it’s revenge, maybe she’s getting impatient, but she dips a hand between them and presses her palm into his crotch. His hips jerk forward involuntarily and before he can move back, before he can find his senses, she’s working her fingers over his jeans and driving him absolutely crazy. If it’s possible, he gets harder. He can feel the wet spot in his underwear, knows it’s going to be uncomfortable the whole way home.

            She gets both hands under his waistband, pulling him flush to her so they’re curled around each other, lips on each other’s necks, not wanting to kiss in case it breaks the contact of any inch of their skin. Quickly, she undoes his belt buckle and starts on his fly. He curls his fingers inside her and feels her hands shudder, smirks at the broken, begging gasp that leaves her lips. She’s wet and warm and pliable. He removes his fingers. She pulls down his boxers.

            His cock is pulsing, hot, and the bio lab is not well enough air conditioned to fix that problem. Her fingers graze over his length, trembling, nervous, and he finds he’s clear headed enough to back up and look her in the eyes. But she’s not looking at him, she’s looking down, blushing heatedly, staring at his cock like it’s the Holy Grail.

            Jeff brushes the hair out of her eyes and cups her cheek but doesn’t tilt up her chin just yet. He wants to memorize this. He wants to have this image burned into his brain. Because even if the moment he tilts up her chin she says she wants to stop, he needs the memory of her looking like she’d spend the day sucking him off if she could.

            Then he nudges her chin.

            She meets his eyes and a soft, calming smile slips over her lips. And he realizes he’s gone about this all wrong. Annie’s not some nameless girl he’s wanted since he first saw her. She’s not a hookup in a bar bathroom. She’s not Britta.

            “Are you okay?” he whispers and not because he feels obligated to check but because he genuinely wants to know.

            She nods.

            “Annie, we shouldn’t do this.”

            “I’m really tired of your excuses,” she says and her voice breaks like she might sob. Instead, she presses their lips together and it’s so different from every other time they’ve kissed. It’s not the rushed make out at the debate or the tentative brush of her lips at the party or the kiss he gave her back that was all instinct and pent-up desire. No. This kiss is Jeff and Annie. This kiss is what they’d share in the future when she slept in his bed and he didn’t call it his bed, he called it their bed, and she wanted him to know she loved him, would always love him, that he meant everything to her, and the emotion behind it is so much that he breaks from it, letting the spit stretch between them, smack their lips away from each other.

            Jeff shakes his head and takes a step back. And it’s ridiculous. Here he is, cock exposed, a willing and _legal_ woman in front of him, panties around her ankles, fucked up and begging for it. And he’s stepping back, shaking his head.

            It’s nearly an out-of-body experience.

            “Jeff,” she whispers. “Jeff.”

            He meets her eyes again and doesn’t think about how he looks. He hopes she can see it all – his desperation, his intense desire, how sad he is, how lonely, how much he wants to make the wrong choice.

            “Jeff.” This time her voice does break. She slips off the lab bench and approaches him, slow, like he might spook. He wants to laugh at the implication that he’s the delicate one. She lays a hand on his chest and looks up into his eyes. “It’s okay,” she says. “This is okay.”

            He shakes his head. “It’s not, Annie. This, us, it’s never been okay.”

            “But it is okay,” she says and her lips quirk upwards, “because I knew _exactly_ what I was doing when I sent that text.”

            His eyes widen. “What?”

            “ _You’re about to be screwed in the bio lab_.” Her voice lilts over the words, teasing, giggling, mocking. “Come on, Jeff. Do you really think I’m so naive that I don’t know how you’d react to the word _screwed_?”

            He licks his lips and takes a step towards her. Her hand falls and ghosts over his cock. He grips her hips and pulls her flush to him, happy that the breath is knocked out of her and the flush returns to her cheeks. “You little slut,” he breathes out.

            Annie giggles.

            He kisses the sound out of her, kisses her breathless. He doesn’t want to hear her voice again, doesn’t want to waste his energy thinking about Annie crafting that text, Annie thinking about what words would get him going, Annie making sure he’d come by not making it a ribald proposal or so vague he’d think she just wanted help on the project. The crafty little minx. How had he not known?

            But he had known. He knows he knew as he hikes her back up onto the bench and wastes no time. Guiding his cock, he pushes into her and makes her bounce, gasp, scream as he settles in. She can’t close her mouth, isn’t breathing through her nose anymore, and he doesn’t kiss her, doesn’t settle her, doesn’t want to. He wants to watch how much she wants him, wants to see the exact moment she realizes she won.

            When he’s sure she’s comfortable, he braces one hand against her hip and sets a punishing pace. She clings to him, her breath hot on his neck, her teeth punishing, and he moves his other hand to rub her clit with rough fingers.

            Her hot, tight walls flex around him and he groans into the sensation, forgetting for a moment that he wants to teach her a lesson. Maybe for longer than a moment. She finds his mouth and presses their lips together, manages to fuck her tongue into his mouth like she wishes he was penetrating all of her. He takes a handful of her ass and squeezes, swallows her gasp.

            With one hand clinging to his shoulders, she creeps the other down his chest and pinches his nipple again. He groans at the sensation, feels it rock through him, and loses his rhythm for a moment. She giggles against his lips and that’s simply unacceptable. He grasps her ass in both hands and yanks her forward, causing her to squeal as she loses her balance and skids to the very edge of the lab bench.

            He thrusts into her, angling himself until he finds her G-spot and she _screams_. Not the squeals of before, not the moans, but an honest-to-goodness _scream_ of his name and some words he hasn’t been quite sure she even knows before just then. He chuckles, laying kisses along the expanse of her neck, loving the smooth porcelain skin and her rumbling moans against his lips. He starts to rub her clit again, rough, hard circles that make her whimper and beg and do a thousand other things he hasn’t even _thought_ to fantasize about because this is Annie, not some paid for plaything.

            She’s coming before he has the sense to register it but as soon as he feels it – feels her trembling, her breath going out all at once – and sees it – sees her eyes roll back, sees her muscles tensing – he catalogues every sign he’s ignored before this moment. The shaking of her thighs. The erratic puffs of her breath. The way her walls clenched around him and then didn’t unclench. His name, shaky and squealed into his ear.

            He slows his thrusts, brushes the sweat-soaked hair back from her forehead, and brings their lips together again. He kisses her tentatively, searchingly, and she pulls back to say, “Keep going.”

            “Huh?”

            “Fuck, Jeff.” She sounds so exasperated, so annoyed, like he’s missed an obvious question on a test and not just made her come. “Keep going.” She tightens herself around him to make the point, starts sucking at his pulse point, and suddenly he’s aware again of his throbbing erection.

            Part of him wants to protest, to say he doesn’t want to hurt her, but she’s not exactly giving him the option. She starts to move again him, fucking herself back onto his cock, and he’s not strong enough to stop himself from following the motion of her body. In seconds, he has the pace back, slamming into her, hearing the slick slap of their skin and her gasping moans. She sucks on his earlobe as she twists one of his nipples and he thinks he’s going to die, thinks he’s going to heaven even though he so much deserves to go to hell.

            Then his knees give and he topples backwards, taking her with him. She makes a sound much closer to pain than pleasure when she lands and he hisses out as his head hits the tile. Then she’s giggling, brushing her fingers through his hair, and he’s smiling up at her face and feeling her heat around him and when she starts to ride him – and she really gets into the performance, her head thrown back, biting her lip – he gives in.

            The shockwaves of his orgasm explode through him, relaxing the tightness in his gut, the heat all through his skin. He groans, a rough sound, and feels her shudder around him. Her breath is heavy in the now quiet room and she slides off of him, her body trembling, her fingers still on his bare chest.

            “Annie,” he whispers, reaching for her. He tangles their fingers together and brings her knuckles up so he can kiss them. “That was...”

            “Yeah,” she replies, breathless.

            He feels something warm on his thigh and at first he thinks it’s just her pussy pressed against him before he realizes it’s his own come dripping down her thighs. For a moment, his brain short circuits at how hot that is, how much he wants to lick it from her skin, but then he regains his senses and panics.

            “We didn’t use a condom.” He shoots up to sitting and looks her in the eye. Brushing her hair back, he feels his heart pounding, scrambles for the words that won’t make him lose her. How could he be so reckless, so careless, so stupid? So recklessly, carelessly, stupid? With Annie? “Shit. Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

            She shakes her head and a breathless sound that could only be laughter slips from her. She presses their lips together, a soft, reassuring kiss, and Jeff feels himself relax as his fingers card through her hair. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “I’m on birth control, I’m clean, and I trust you.”

            Jeff scoffs. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

            Her smile could topple empires, he’s sure of it. “But I do.”

            He caresses her cheek and kisses her, relishing the taste of her, the warmth, all the things he’s denied himself. When he pulls back, he can’t quite find it in himself to stop touching her, to pull their foreheads apart. He wants to sit there in the bio lab for the rest of his life. You know, if that wouldn’t mean sitting there sticky and sweaty and with his pants down while generation after generation of community college students step around him. But maybe he could bear even that if it means Annie will keep looking at him with that soft smile, with her giggle trapped and sparkling in her eyes.

            “Maybe you should take me home now,” Annie prompts, “like you intended to?”

            Jeff feels his heart fall out of his chest but he hides it with a patented Winger smirk. “Of course.”

            “I meant,” she says, her voice fast and catching, like she knows there’s a weight in his stomach, “you could take me home in the _other_ way.”

            He stares at her for a moment. Her eyes are innocent and wide and scared and he feels his stomach drop into his feet for a whole new reason. She genuinely believes he would get up, wipe himself off, and leave her there. She thinks he’ll forget the whole thing by morning, go back to treating her like a kid who doesn’t know what she wants.

            But she knows. It’s very clear that she knows _exactly_ what she wants.

            He kisses her slowly, drawing it out with promises he doesn’t trust himself to say out loud, and then looks her in the eyes. “I’d be more than happy to take you home.” He chuckles to himself as his fingers slide through her hair, catching in the tangles. “You can even decorate the place if you want.”

            She laughs and her smile doesn’t go away which makes their next kiss all teeth, not that he minds, not that he’d ever mind. Right then, she’s there in his lap, so close he can memorize the rhythm of her breath, and all thoughts of what’s wrong or right, how he’ll explain this to the study group, or any number of other issues are gone for the night. Maybe gone forever. Because he’s not quite sure how he’s expected to care about other people when he can make Annie happy just by grazing his thumb over her bottom lip.


End file.
